


To the Ends of the Earth

by avengerslut



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Forced, Forced Orgasm, Kidnapping, Lemon, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 13:02:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20192722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengerslut/pseuds/avengerslut
Summary: You finally escaped Steve Roger’s clutches. You put that hellish chapter of your life behind you and started anew, far away from the man who saw you as the love of his life.Little did you know the lengths he would go find you.Little do you know what he’ll do when he finally does.





	To the Ends of the Earth

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains rough non-con smut and some violence and is generally pretty dark. Please do not read if any of this offends you.

It had taken months to plot your escape. Locating the nanochip he had secretly implanted in your wrist, sleeping in his bed, filling his head with sweet nothings. _I love_ _you’s_ and _you’re_ _my everything’s_ flowed from your lips over pillowcases damp with sex sweat after hours of what he called “making love”. But it never was. No matter how good it felt or how much care he took to make sure you were comfortable, you’d never, ever consented to him 

He’d watched you for weeks, memorized your schedule, studied your quirks. He’d “saved” you during the Battle of New York, dragged you out from under some stone rubble and taken you back to his apartment, making sure to tenderly wrap your gashed leg before returning to the aliens screeching around the city. You’d passed out before he returned to you and subsequently woken to Captain America himself tending to your wound.

As the dust cleared about the city and its citizens recuperated, you remained holed up in bed with a slowly healing leg and a protective super soldier catering to your every need. At first you’d been flattered- who wouldn’t melt under the soft blue eyes of America’s sweetheart?

But the sweetness soon soured when you’d asked to leave, to return to your apartment and your life. The baby blues had darkened, that perfect jaw clenched tightly. He’d insisted you weren’t well enough to support yourself yet.

At first you’d accepted his chiding, snuggled deeper into his bed and enjoyed the warmth when he’d first crept in next to you after a few nights of sleeping on the couch. He had become comfortable quickly, kissing your forehead at first only before bed, then every time he dressed your wound or fed you. But a week passed, and your strength returned, and he still wouldn’t allow you to leave. After he instated a new ritual of a glass of water before bed, you began to feel your strength being almost drained from you. You were weaker than you’d been even while wounded, so weak that Steve had been forced- smiling- to carry you carefully almost everywhere.

One week turned into two, and you had soon become bitter. His face had darkened when you refused the water at night, shrunk away from his touch, insisted on going home. He’d reminded you that he’d saved you, that you owed your life to him. He had cared about you like no one else had before or ever would.

That was the last straw. That night you’d slipped from the bed and his arms and tried every door and window in the flat, only to find them all locked. Only to find Steve towering behind you, glaring angrily as you turned from the final window.

“I gave you _everything_,” he’d hissed, grabbing your arms roughly and dragging you from the wall. Finally snapping, you’d kicked and tried to scream, but he’d covered your mouth with a large, rough hand. The same large, rough hands had pinned you to the bed, holding you helpless as Steve Rogers trailed his lips down your chin all the way to your navel. You still remembered when he’d leaned down to your ear, allowing his hot lips to graze the shell as he whispered. “I’m doing this for your own good.”

Then, he had raped you.

No matter how many times he worked your body to orgasm, no matter the sweet _I love you’s_ he whispered while he did it, it was still against your will. It wasn’t the last time it happened, as the super soldier seemed to have an insatiable sexual appetite you alone had to fulfill. Afterward and in between he whispered to you, sweet confessions of love and obsession that made your skin crawl. He knew everything about you, even devised a plan during the Battle of New York to put you in peril that he might save you. Everything about your treatment was catered to your liking, things you’d never told him. Favorite foods, favorite shows. The only thing he learned for himself was how to touch your body so perfectly you couldn’t resist orgasm, often multiple times in a single session.

It was the pure anger and sorrow and shame you’d felt that first night and the many, many nights after that fueled your elaborate escape plan. Days, weeks of convincing him that he’d swayed you to fall in love with him allowed him to trust you enough to leave you for an overnight mission. Immediately you’d sprung into action, booking a plane ticket and hotel stay in Europe under the name Rogers. He’d take the bait. Then you headed to the train station and steamed your way to Dallas to immerse yourself in the throngs of people that packed the hot city.

You’d painfully cut out the tracker after feeling the miniscule lump underneath the thin skin of your wrist one evening in his apartment. The tiny, bloody sliver of metal was left atop a sappy note written for the sole purpose of leading him to Europe. It said you were going to live your dream, alone. The same dream you’d lied about to him when you lay wrapped in each other’s arms late at night, of traveling to Europe with him as your doting boyfriend. It had worked so far- you were three months in to your new, free life without a hint of the sinister Captain America. 

That’s where you were now, donning a brightly colored uniform for a fast food joint down the street from your new flat. The job wasn’t ideal, but it was a steady income as you rebuilt your life from what Steve Rogers had shattered when he took you. The environment was fun, you were even making friends. The work was a welcome distraction. Even on exceptionally hot and sticky days like today.

You’d volunteered to take the trash to the dumpster out back, craving a slight breeze to lift the sweaty hair that was glued to your neck and forehead. With a grunt, you lugged the black bag outside, groaning when you saw the dumpster at least five feet from its normal spot. Usually you could prop the door open with your leg and toss the bag away, but the extra distance forced you to walk all the way out. _Please don’t lock_… you internally willed the door as it closed with a click. With some difficulty, you heaved the bag into the dumpster, brushing your hands off when you finished. You turned to walk back inside, and that’s when you heard him. 

“Beautiful day.”

_No. _

You turned slightly, afraid of what you would see. A chill ran down your spine when you located the source of the voice, leaning against a black pickup truck.

Him. Steve Rogers.

He looked surprisingly calm for a man who was so prone to violent outbursts followed by sexual drives so intense they had nearly driven you unconscious. His eyes were obscured by dark glasses, surely concealing those familiar baby blues dark with anger. A tight shirt clung to his body, accompanied by a casual jacket and jeans. He had the appearance of a laid back man. However, the tight clothing gave away the tension in his muscles.

“Long time, no see.”

He took off his glasses, casually hooking them onto his shirt. You were right- his eyes were a stormy blue the color of the raging sea. You simply stared at him, your body itching to sprint away. When he stepped forward, that’s just what you did- sprint to the door and fruitlessly jiggle the handle. It was locked.

“No. NO!” you yelled, tears burning in your eyes. Your fists pounded on the door. “PLEASE! LET ME IN!”

But it was the early morning shift, and only two of your coworkers were working, probably in the front. No one was in the drive-thru or parking lot yet. No one could see you. 

Suddenly, a hard body pressed against your back, pinning your hands to the door. Those soft lips dragged against your ear like they did so long ago. Hot breath fanned your skin. “You really thought I’d ever stop looking for you?”

You froze before attempting to buck him off you, throwing elbows back at him. He caught your arms easily and wrapped his own around you. You opened your mouth to scream, but he knew your every move before you did. His hand covered your lips as he dragged you, kicking, into the truck. Before you knew it, zip ties were cutting harshly into the skin of your wrists and a scrap of cloth was gagging you.

You were tossed in the back seat unceremoniously, a second zip tie securing you to the seatbelt. Steve slammed the door and climbed in the front seat, revving the engine with a roar before speeding out of the lot. You stopped struggling, finally allowing the tears hot in your eyes to slip down your cheeks.

“I cannot believe you,” Steve hissed after ten minutes of driving in dead silence.

“I was worried sick over you. You could have been killed or got lost or… misleading me to Europe? Really?” His voice was sharp with anger and disappointment, but void of hatred. He’d told you many times before, he could never hate you.

“I am the only one who ever loved you. The only one who cares. And this is how you repay me.”

The gag stopped you from responding, but you had nothing to say.

“I’m disappointed in you.” Tears coursed hot down your cheeks. He was going to kill you.

The rest of the drive was silent. Minutes melded into hours. Steve stopped for nothing, not offering you food or water or a chance to relieve yourself. He’d never let you go so long without food at his apartment. You didn’t know how long you’d been driving, but the sun was almost dipping low in the sky by the time you looked up. You were almost asleep when Steve finally pulled over. The rustling woke you as he took off his jacket before slamming his door.

He yanked open the door you were curled against, and with ease he snapped your zip ties off. A finger was shoved down your throat to free your mouth from the gag.

“Unghh,” you moaned, falling forward as you gasped and brought a hand to your sore throat. Steve slapped it away and snatched your waist, dragging you from the car. Your legs felt like jelly and you stumbled, wincing in the low sunlight. Some orange rock formations cast long, mysterious shadows on the ground, but you were in no mood to appreciate the natural beauty around you. From what you could tell, you were on the side of a single desolate highway that stretched for miles in front of and behind you. Completely empty.

You were alone with a monster.

Steve slammed your back against the side of the car, his face pink with fury. There were bags under his normally bright eyes, and his face was scruffy and unkempt. The blue irises were dark, darker than you’d ever seen before. He scared you.

He seemed to think for a moment before speaking curtly.

“I would burn down the entire Earth if it meant finding you.”

Despair settled in your stomach, and your neck went slack, eyes staring blankly at the sandy dirt at your feet. _You’d been so close…_

Rough fingers grabbed your jaw and forced you toward those deadly eyes. “Look at me,” he growled.

You gazed, unfocused, at the horizon behind him. “LOOK AT ME!” he shouted, flecks of spit landing on your chin. When you met his eyes, his grip on your face relaxed slightly.

“You… are mine. You belong to me. I own every fucking cell in your body. Every thought that passes through your brain is mine.”

He paused. “I love you.”

You swallowed. “This isn’t love,” you rasped, throat sore and dry.

The corners of his lips turned up in a sinister smile. “This is my kind of love.”

You felt his breath brush your cheek before he buried his nose in your hair, inhaling deeply. A chill shuddered down your spine when he licked a long, wet stripe up your cheek, allowing his perfect teeth to scrape the skin on his way back down to your chin. Anger fueled a burst of rash confidence within you.

“I never loved you.”

Steve pulled back and gazed at you intently. “Everything I ever said about loving you or wanting to be with you was a lie. I hate you. More than anyone I’ve ever met.”

His lip twitched. In a split second he grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked your head back, causing you to grunt in pain. You could feel wisps of his overgrown blond hair tickle your chin as he trailed his teeth down your trachea to the indentation where your neck met your clavicles.

“Sometimes…” he murmured, lips pressed against your skin. “Sometimes I consider crushing that little voice box of yours.”

His thumb caressed your bottom lip almost lovingly before his hand slipped to the collar of your shirt. “But then I wouldn’t be able to hear you scream for me when we make love.”

“We DON-“

_Crack_. His palm caught you across the face, snapping your head forcefully to the side. His fingers were quick to follow, stroking and soothing the reddened skin. “Don’t raise your voice.”

Your tongue gingerly probed your cheek and you tasted copper. Suddenly you nearly choked as Steve shoved two fingers into your mouth and felt the ragged skin. They reemerged with tips reddened by your blood.

Steve studied his fingers for a moment before sucking them clean, keeping his gaze level with yours. He smirked at your horror. “I told you. Every cell.”

Fingers returned to your collar and yanked harshly, buttons popping off onto the ground as he tore your shirt from your body. He quickly ran his hands over every inch of newly exposed skin that was dripping sweat in the sweltering heat.

“I missed this body.” His lips dipped between your breasts and licked a drop of sweat that trickled down your cleavage.

“I’ll have to mark it again…” His lips suddenly latched onto the skin above your breasts and sucked harshly, and you were vividly reminded of waking each day to see your body littered with dark hickeys. They’d clustered up your neck, on your breasts, and between your legs, and fell randomly everywhere else in your body. Steve had loved to bring you to the mirror with him and trace his fingers lightly over the darkened skin. “Now everyone knows you’re mine,” he’d whispered, nibbling on your earlobe. He’d used your body like a canvas, painting it with those purple-red bruises and signing it with a bite mark on your shoulder or hip. You’d hated those marks.

“No!” you yelled suddenly, mustering your energy to shove him away from you. It was almost like he was expecting it, though, because he caught you quickly and slammed you back against the truck, hard. His mouth sucked harshly on his skin as he pressed your body into the car. Teeth grazed the skin under his mouth. He was going to mark you again. He wanted to make you his, and his alone.

“Stop, STOP!” you screeched, pushing and slapping at his shoulders as he shoved you harder into the car. Your fingers gripped blond tufts of his hair and attempted to yank his head away from your skin. Two hands suddenly grabbed your wrists and forced them above your head as his mouth sucked even harder. His pelvis began to grind subtly into your thigh, and a wave of nausea rocked your stomach when you felt his hardness pressing into your jeans.

With a deep breath, you snapped your knee up into his crotch. Steve went stumbling backward with a string of yelled curses. Gasping, you turned to open the driver door and crawled in, looking about wildly for a key. Even if you couldn’t find one, you could hide in the car to buy yourself a minute or two. The keys- where were the keys?

Suddenly, large hands grabbed your legs and yanked you unceremoniously out of the seat and into the dirt, knocking the air from your lungs. Steve seethed above you. “I was hoping to wait until we made it back home. But you obviously need this.”

His t-shirt was discolored with dirt and a growing patch of sweat, and he peeled it off over his head to reveal a glistening, wickedly sculpted upper body. He looked even more chiseled than before, if that was even possible.

Steve noticed your staring and smirked. “Every waking moment I wasn’t looking for you, I was in the gym. Preparing myself. For this.” His smirk grew. “For you.”

“You’re insane.”

He shrugged. “If loving you makes me insane, then lock me up in an asylum and throw away the key.”

Grabbing your arms, he yanked you to your feet, finding little resistance. You were stripped all too quickly, the rest of your uniform along with your bra and underwear joining your shirt on the dusty ground. Once you were completely nude Steve licked his lips hungrily, scanning your body like an animal observing would-be prey. For he first time since he found you, he leaned in and kissed you with hot, swollen lips. You stumbled back as he walked forward, never removing his lips from yours as he pushed you onto your back against the back row of seats in the truck. Your skin stuck to the leather with sweat.

Steve broke the kiss only for a second to shove his jeans to his ankles and kick them off, leaving his only in a pair of tight black boxer briefs. Every muscle in his body looked tense. He was nearly shaking in anticipation, and it scared you. You didn’t know what he was capable of when he was out of control. He could hurt you. Badly.

Steve noticed you shrink away from him slightly. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll be gentle. I know we’ve both been waiting a long time for this.”

You ignored him while your mind raced with ways to delay the inevitable. “I’m so thirsty,” you whimpered.

That was true. Your tongue was dry and heavy in your mouth. Steve inhaled sharply, the bulge in his boxers evident. “Fine. But I’ll be holding the bottle.”

He reached into the front seat before sitting next to you. A thick arm snaked around your waist and lugged you onto his lap, and despite the heat, you felt a chill being so close to him again. The bottle prodded your lips and you opened obligingly. The water cooled your throat. Steve pressed light kisses to your shoulder and collarbone until you finished drinking.

He tossed the bottle aside and kissed you deeply, crawling on top of you. You began to writhe underneath him. “Please, please don’t do this. I don’t want this. I don’t love you!”

He leaned up and kissed your nose. “You will.”

In an instant his boxers had disappeared, and you could feel his arousal pressing into your stomach. He slid down your body and nudged at your entrance, not even giving you time to protest before he pushed inside you. You gasped, and your heartbeat thundered in your chest. All of the times he had taken you in his apartment came flooding back- the pain, the pleasure, the raw feeling of it all. Steve moved slowly, making sure you felt every inch of him penetrate you.

His lips were parted in absolute ecstasy, eyes squeezed shut. When he was fully inside he released a sharp breath, panting and trembling with the exertion of keeping himself still. You wanted to punch him but were too dazed by fear and shock that you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Besides, you’d seen what he could do when he was angry. If you triggered his anger now, especially with all of his pent-up sexual appetite, he could destroy you.

Steve withdrew a little before pushing back into you, this time moaning aloud in bliss. That was new- he’d never been one for much more than dirty talk. He was always in control. But this… he’d almost completely let go.

“Ohhh, god. Fuck… fuck.” When he paused again, he opened those blue eyes in wonder. “I forgot how good this was.”

An impatient hand grabbed your arms and flung them around his neck before he gave you a sloppy kiss. “Just give in,” he murmured, rocking his hips against you.

Your eyes closed in an attempt to shut out everything that was happening around and inside of you. You bit the inside of your cheek hard and tasted blood. This wasn’t right. It would never be right.

_But it feels so good_, a tiny voice purred in the back of your brain as Steve groaned above you.

Your eyes snapped open. This didn’t feel good… did it? Steve’s pelvis slammed into yours as he bottomed out within you, hitting a spot inside of you that made your back arch involuntarily. _I knew it_ the voice accused you. _Fucking slut…_

“No!” You shouted aloud. You lurched up and shoved on Steve’s broad chest roughly. He barely stumbled backward, snatching your wrists before you could scramble away from him. They were pinned to the hot leather above your head.

Steve gave you a crooked smirk, sweat from his face dripping onto your breasts. “You know I like it when you resist.”

His free arm wrapped around your waist and hoisted your hips up to meet his thrusts. He was right. He’d loved angry sex, hateful sex, and overly rough sex. He’d sometimes provoked you into fighting hard against him just so he could hold you down and fuck you senseless. You’d been his pain reliever when he was angry or stressed; he’d come home and throw you on the bed and roughly have his way with you. You’d tried to resist his attempts at provoking you into a reaction, but something about him struck a hot chord of hatred within you that was hard to control.

But you swallowed your pride and looked away from him, lying motionless and silent on the leather seats in the way you knew he hated.

Steve’s eyes narrowed darkly. “C’mon, no fire for me?”

You clenched your teeth hard and ignored him. Ignored his voice, his face, the feeling of him inside of you. The hand on your wrist suddenly moved to your breasts, squeezing each roughly in turn. You flinched, but remained still. Maybe he would finish before he would try hard to provoke you into a reaction.

But Steve paused, his dark eyes boring into your soul. He leaned in so that his lips brushed your ear. “I knew you’d take it. You always do. Makes me think you want it more than you say.”

_Don’t react_.

He began thrusting slowly again. “You’re such a slut for me. I barely used any energy to get you to open up those whore legs again.”

_ Don’t react. _

“Admit it. You need me. Because you’re _nothing_ without me.”

That was the final straw. You screamed obscenities at him as you writhed underneath his heavy body, punching and slapping and kicking and biting every inch of skin you could reach. Steve’s triumphant laugh was cut off by a growl of pain when you sunk your teeth into his shoulder and tasted blood.

He shoved you down hard as deep red liquid dripped from the mark and down his chest. It tasted coppery and disgusting in your mouth, and when he looked his chest for a moment you spat it at him.

A deranged grin split his face this time, and he merely held your body down and drilled himself harder and deeper inside you. His mouth attacked every inch of your hot skin and pulled hickeys to the surface. His tongue was quick to lick up any drops of sweat that escaped your pores. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass as he rutted into you, moaning loudly against your skin. His hands roamed, too, squeezing your breasts and rolling the nipples between his fingers. It was as if every inch of your skin he touched made it his own, and he was desperate to own you completely.

Steve’s pace was punishingly fast, his cock pounding into you with a frenzied speed. His eyes never left your face. When you glowered up at him with a look of pure hatred, he smiled under lidded eyes.

“I’ll always find you. If I’m not with you, I’ll always be looking for you. I’ll chase you to the ends of the Earth.”

You managed to hold eye contact with him as he thrust into you. “And I’ll never stop running.”

Steve’s jaw clenched. A hand dropped between the two of you to paw at your clit and you fought harder against him. He wanted you to orgasm, he wanted to humiliate you. It was working. You could feel the sickening tightness build in your core and wanted to cry.

Instead, you attempted to harm him as much as possible as you cussed him out in a manner that would make any sailor proud. You managed to land angry red scratch marks on his cheek and chest before your body betrayed you. Steve’s features twisted into an evil satisfaction as you arched and trembled underneath him, your body wracked with waves of the repulsive pleasure he forced from you. You refused to meet the eyes you knew were taunting you. 

Steve lifted your hips up fully from the seats as he drove himself to the hilt inside of you a few more times before groaning loudly and freezing. His hot, sweaty body collapsed on top of yours while you tried to ignore the feeling of him spilling hot inside of you. He’d always teased you with the notion of getting you pregnant so that you could never leave him, and it scared you to death. Luckily, you’d been safe thus far. But if he took you with him back to New York, Lord knows what could happen.

Steve breathed heavily above you, eyes closed. This was the only chance you had to make any effort to escape the psychopath that on top of you. Wracked with desperation, you felt along the floor of the car with your hand for anything that you could use against him. Nothing was on the carpet.

Dread slowly filled your body as you quickly felt for something, anything. Suddenly, your fingers landed on an opened cup holder extending behind the center console. Within one of the holders you felt the cold metal of a travel mug of sorts.

With extreme caution, you lifted it slightly. Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest- it was one of the heavy duty mugs, with stainless steel double walls and a weight that suggested it was full of a liquid.

Your eyes flitted back up to the body atop you. Steve’s head remained still on your breastbone. His orgasms were always accompanied by the psychological high of dominating you, and it usually took him a good few minutes to recover.

Slowly, slower than you had ever moved in your life, you lifted the travel mug out of the cup holder. It was indeed heavy, and your weakened muscles trembled with some exertion. Slowly you lifted your arm up. Slowly you moved the hand holding the mug to hover over the back of Steve’s head. And then, with a desperate speed, you slammed the metal canister down on the back of that blond-covered skull.

Steve roared once, lifting himself off your naked body immediately, eyes flaming with rage. For a single horrible second, you feared you hadn’t hit him hard enough. But when he blinked hard and staggered once atop you, you took the chance and hit him again. This time the metal connected with his temple, hard. The lid burst off the mug and water flew into the air, soaking the both of you.

Steve managed to look at you once with an expression of pure rage and confusion and something that looked like fear. You stared back with a sick triumph. A humorless grin curved your lips when he muttered a hoarse “You-“ before his head was slammed into the seats again with another blow from the cup.

Blood trickled down his temple.

You knew he was alive, and that this bout of unconsciousness wouldn’t hold him long. But a flash of pure vengeance shivered through you at the sight of him helpless, just as he had made you. You nearly recoiled in hatred and disgust.

With more force than necessary you shoved him out of the car. His limp body tumbled into the sand, face up. Even unconscious, it felt like he was still taunting you.

“I hate you!” you screamed, kicking his body. It barely moved.

“I hate you! I fucking hate you!” Hot tears coursed suddenly down your face, and you cursed yourself for showing weakness- even when he couldn’t see it.

You wiped your tears and stood over him for another moment. Finally, you forced yourself to turn away. You gathered up your clothes, found the keys in his jeans pocket. You considered leaving Steve’s clothes with him, but decided that you’d rather humiliate him by leaving him half naked in the desert, boxers round his ankles like a pervert. You hoped someone would find him like this.

Your eyes landed on the freshly bloodstained mug. After a moment of hesitation, you tossed it next to his head. He needed to know. You had beaten him. Again.

For a moment you considered trying to kill him. But it was pointless. He was Captain America, and you wouldn’t allow him the last laugh as you spent your life in prison.

You tugged your shirt on and entered the truck. He would soon recover, and he would be after you. He would always be after you, and he might catch you. But you would be prepared. He could chase forever, and you would run. You would never stop fighting.

You turned the keys in the ignition and the engine hummed to life. The tires squealed as you pressed hard on the gas. You didn’t look back.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! All kudos and comments are appreciated! <3


End file.
